


Assumptions

by dotfic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-06
Updated: 2007-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:24:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotfic/pseuds/dotfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's always been there to watch Sam's back. Always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assumptions

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: In the middle of commenting [](http://yourlibrarian.livejournal.com/profile)[**yourlibrarian**](http://yourlibrarian.livejournal.com/) 's [meta on 3x01](http://yourlibrarian.livejournal.com/67850.html), I got ambushed by a plot bunny, so I owe her thanks, and to [](http://innie-darling.livejournal.com/profile)[**innie_darling**](http://innie-darling.livejournal.com/) for looking this over for me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam tosses his gun into the trunk and slams the hood with unnecessary force. "I thought you were going to double back around the gas station, head the demon off the other way?"

The last trace of satisfaction he'd felt watching Sam overcome and then exorcise the son-of-a-bitch that had been slaughtering unwary travelers fades. He tries to hang onto it, as if it's something he can put in his pocket and cherish like a ticket stub from a rock concert.

Dean's trying not to look at his brother, has his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket and his eyes on the red sunset. He schools the muscles of his face before turning to Sam with a quick, sardonic grin, careful to give nothing away. "No. You assumed I would."

That stops Sam's angry, back-and-forth walk cold. "What?"

"You handled the demon fine by yourself."

"What happened to watching each other's backs? Or are you thinking so hard about the next bacon double cheeseburger that you're getting sloppy? It's happening more and more--"

"Sam." The syllable snaps out of him more grating than he means it to be (and too much like Dad. Always too much like Dad now).

When Dean doesn't continue right away, the look Sam gives him simmers openly with impatience and irritation, and something else that makes Dean's chest ache.

He tries to say it, can't, works his tongue against his palate, swallows and feels his game face slipping. He never should've interrupted.

Let Sam go on thinking what he thinks. Better that way.

No, easier.

"Dean, _what_?" And now there's a low, dangerous burn in Sam's voice.

Dean rests his hand on the Impala's roof, the steel cool beneath his touch. "Nothing." He yanks the driver's side door open.

But Sam slams it closed, the hinges letting out a groaning creak as if in protest against all this slamming, at the car being used as a tool in their argument. "Don't give me that nothing bullshit."

"Fine. Stop assuming I'll be there watching your back all the time."

His brother opens his mouth with a quick answer, but no words come out. Dean spots the exact moment Sam gets it.

Dean wrenches the driver's side door open and gets in the car.

"You handled that demon fine by yourself."

~end  



End file.
